Newfound Normalcy
by Heeroluva
Summary: Jack comes back changed, and Ianto slowly realizes that the worst danger to Jack is Jack himself. Jack/Ianto


Title: Newfound Normalcy  
Pairing: Ianto/Jack  
Warnings: Implied self-harm and suicide, h/c  
Spoilers: A different take at the beginning of season 2  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I just like to play with them.  
Summary: Jack comes back changed, and Ianto slowly realizes that the worst danger to Jack is Jack himself.  
Notes: Written for blackbird_song for torchwood_fest. Originally posted here and here. All mistakes are mine. Feel free to let me know if you see any. As always feedback is appreciated.

It wasn't until the shock of Jack's reappearance wore off that Ianto began to really notice the changes in him. The weight loss was the most obvious change in the beginning. Jack had gone from sculpted and lean to thin and wiry. But the most startling change had been his eyes. Jack's eyes had always been shadowed even when he was smiling, except during those rare moments when he lost himself in the throes of passion. But now Jack's eyes remained blank and dead. Even when his face was stretched wide with a smile, it never reached his eyes anymore. Even the appreciative gleam that had always been present in Jack's eyes when they landed on an attractive figure was absent. Jack tried. Ianto saw the effort, but that was all. It was an effort, and a weak one at that.

Two weeks after Jack's return, after a long day where Jack had died twice before disappearing into his hole, Ianto was left to clean up the mess, while everyone else went home and pretended that they had normal lives. Ianto had given up that naivety long ago, even before Lisa's death. There was no going back to 'normal' after all of this. This was now normal and no amount of pretending would change that.

Jack had unexpectedly appeared in the range where Ianto was cleaning the weapons and reloading used clips for use the next time they were needed. Ianto wasn't sure why he hadn't been startled when Jack had wrapped his arms around his waist and plastered himself up against Ianto's back, while placing a kiss on his neck. Ianto carefully placed the gun he was holding back in its case and flipped the latch before turning in the circle of Jack's arms.

For a moment Ianto thought about pulling away and putting a stop to it because he knew what Jack wanted and wasn't sure if he was okay with this. It had been months since they'd been together, and this was the first time since Jack's return that he had tried something like this. Ianto had really expected it sooner. They hadn't talked about it, had never spoken of it, and even now when Ianto thought there was a definite need, he couldn't force the words out.

There was something in Jack's face that stopped him, and when Jack leaned forward to kiss him, Ianto didn't prevent him. It was a bit of an ordeal to get from the range to the broken-down couch in the main area, but they managed. The sex was different than Ianto had experienced with Jack before. It was fast and desperate, yet almost worshipful compared to the slow, teasing, explorations that Jack was fond of when they had the time.

The tears that followed, while definitely not normal, weren't completely shocking either. As the sobs shook Jack's frame, Ianto just held him close, offering him the little comfort he could. Jack hadn't spoken of the months that he was gone, but Ianto couldn't help but feel that it had been longer for Jack, and that whatever happened during that time had been horrible. When Jack suddenly pulled away, stood, and all but ran to his room, leaving Ianto alone with the quickly drying remnants of their passion drying on his body, he also wasn't surprised.

As he made his way towards the shower, he wondered if anything Jack could do could shock him anymore. As he rinsed off the various fluids from his body he contemplated confronting Jack, but threw the idea out just as quickly. When Jack didn't want to talk, his lips were sealed tighter than the Tower of London.

Ianto didn't know what to think of their relationship. He knew there was no happily ever after with would eventually die, likely young and not naturally, while Jack would live forever, move on and forget him. He hoped that a thousand years down the road that he was more than an insignificant instance in Jack's life, but he was a realist and knew it was unlikely. It had taken him a long time to admit it, but he loved the man, and knew that Jack did love him in his own way. It was enough.

The next morning when Ianto brought everyone their customary coffee, he began to bring snacks for Jack, not leaving until he saw Jack nibbling on the edge of the scone or biscuit or whatever goodie he'd brought for him that day.

It wasn't until the third day that Owen opened his big mouth. "Why does he get treats, and we don't?"

Before Ianto could stop himself, he blurted out. "Well if we were fucking, maybe you would."

He wasn't sure who was more shocked at his crass words, him or Owen, but for once Owen didn't have a comeback, and wide-eyed, Owen all but ran to the morgue heedless of the female giggles that followed him.

Ianto wasn't sure where that had come from and how he managed not to blush. It wasn't like it had ever been a secret that he and Jack were sleeping together, but he'd never verbally admitted it before, never discussed it with any of the team, and wondered if he'd just opened a can of worms with Owen that would surely come back and bite him in the ass.

The next day, Ianto arrived before everyone as was customary and was greeted by a trail of blood. Sadly, in the past weeks such a thing had become more and more common. Instead of contacting anyone when rift activity was detected at night, Jack was going out and facing it on his own. Following the trail, he couldn't help but turn away as it led him to Jack's body. He'd seen Jack die dozens of times now, and it never got easier. There was always a part of him that feared that it would be the last time, and that Jack wouldn't wake up again.

Stripping off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, he began the tedious process of cleaning up the blood. Given the severity of Jack's wounds and the amount of blood loss, Ianto knew he had some time before he awoke. When the floor was finally clean, he began work on cleaning up Jack, noting that his wounds were closing and knew that he'd wake shortly. After he got Jack cleaned and managed to wrangle him into a pair of pants and a shirt, he laid him out on the couch and tucked a blanket around him, knowing that Jack was always cold when he came back from wherever he went when he died.

Ianto busied himself with making coffee, but the sound of the steam couldn't overcome Jack's painful gasp as he drew in his first breath of air. Ianto didn't turn around, instead stirring chocolate and espresso together before pouring the steamed milk over it, giving it another stir. Setting the spoon down, he reached for the cloth to wipe the steam wand clean, but Jack's hand suddenly grabbed him. It wasn't until that instant that Ianto realized that he was shaking.

Turning, he flung his arms around Jack, holding him close and breathing in his scent as he buried his face in Jack's neck.

"Ianto—"

"No, Jack. Don't."

And Jack didn't, just held Ianto as he stood trembling in his arms.

That night Ianto didn't go home after he turned off the lights and locked up, but instead made a bed on the couch. When the alarm went off a number of hours later, he followed Jack down to the SUV. If Jack was surprised when Ianto opened the door and climbed in, he didn't show it. The weevils were out en mass that night, and given the number of close calls they had, Ianto couldn't help but shudder as flashes of what could have happened if Jack had gone out on his own wove through his brain.

The next night was even worse. When Ianto grabbed his phone, he called for backup from the others despite Jack's reproachful look. But Jack never said anything about it. As they hauled the lot back to the containment cells, Ianto couldn't help but think that Jack almost looked happy for the first time in weeks.

Two days later when Jack approached him again, Ianto met him half-way. This time they actually managed to drag themselves down the ladder to Jack's bed. They didn't let go of each other for one instant and they were luckythat neither of them broke their necks despite the bed being at the bottom of the ladder. It was different this time too, still desperate and hurried, as though Jack was afraid he'd be ripped from him at any time. However this time, Jack actually looked at him, and for the first time, Ianto felt that Jack truly saw him. It both scared and thrilled him.

As Jack collapsed panting and sweaty against him, he softly spoke, "Love you, Ianto."

Ianto froze under him, not even breathing as the words registered. That was not something he'd ever expected to hear from Jack.

Feeling Ianto's stillness Jack slowly raisedhis head, his eyes shuttering as he hesitantly met Ianto's eyes.

Ianto knew that if he didn't say anything, that Jack would never open up to him again. Drawing a deep shuddering breath, he raised his hand to Jack's face, cupped his cheek, and murmured, "Cariad."

The shadows that had begun forming in Jack's eyes suddenly vanished, and a small smile appeared on his face. "Cariad," Jack hesitantly repeated. "What does it mean?"

Ianto leaned up for a soft kiss. "Beloved," he breathed against Jack's lips, feeling Jack's smile and giving one of his own in return.

Jack sighed in contentment and laid his head over Ianto's heart, listening to the steady beat, while tracing patterns across his side.

Several minutes passed that way before Ianto began hesitantly "Jack?"

"Hmm?" Jack hummed against his skin.

"If you ever need to talk, about anything, I'm here. You know that right?"

Jack's hand stopped its motion, but he didn't raise his head. "I know. Just not now, okay?"

Ianto raised his hand and smoothed Jack's hair back from his forehead. "Whenever you're ready."

"And if I'm never ready?" Jack asked.

"Then you're not ready."

"Thank you," Jack all but breathed against his skin.

Ianto continued running his hand through Jack's hair, something that he'd found that Jack particularly enjoyed having done, and that Ianto enjoyed doing, until he felt Jack's breathing even out as he dropped into sleep. There was no such thing as perfection, and he wasn't looking for it. Things wouldn't always be easy he knew, and nothing had really changed, but Ianto had learned to take happiness were he could find it. And in this instant he was happy.


End file.
